The Day I Choose Myself Novels & Stories

One of them then placed a foot on Kevin's face. I looked down at him, my voice chilling. "Kevin, consider this your last warning." With that, I walked away, leaving his cries behind, leaving the past I'd once known buried in the dust. After Kevin was taken to the police station, I eventually heard the news—he had jumped to his death, unable to pay his debts. But that no longer mattered to me. At that moment, I was backstage, holding a bouquet of flowers, nervously waiting for my bride. Today was my wedding day. My bride had been introduced to me by my parents—a well-matched young woman, gentle, kind, and intelligent. She was someone I could partner with in business and life, someone who coul

Because it wasn’t handed to me in a desperate letter or carved from guilt. It was chosen. And I will keep choosing it. Every single day.

Evelyn looked at her. “What?” “You can’t do that.” “Do what?” “Choose him.” Evelyn held Alexander’s hand. “I already did.” The older Evelyn backed away. “No.” Evelyn looked at the children. “I choose them.” The room shook. “I choose myself.” The Echo screamed. “I choose the life we lived.” The walls cracked. “I choose the memories that hurt.” Another crack. “I choose the memories that make me happy.” The blackness began collapsing. “And I choose the things I don’t remember yet.”

"Elara, I've already been punished. Are you still not satisfied? I told you I wouldn't divorce you. I told you I love you. We even have a child—can't we just go back to the way it was?" I laughed bitterly, pulling back the divorce papers and setting new terms. "If you don't want a divorce, fine. But I'll terminate the pregnancy. Choose—me or the baby." I held his gaze, waiting for an answer. In his eyes, I saw not just disappointment but a deep, burning regret. After a long silence, he finally made his choice. Just as I expected, he signed the divorce papers. … On the day we filed the divorce, Cyran hesitated more than once before speaking, his voice almost pleading.

All of it, every hard moment, every tear, every fear, led me here. To this vineyard. To this man. To this family. To choose love again, even when I was terrified. To choose myself first, then choosing a partner who chooses me back. Every. Single. Day.

Every decision I made, every place I went, every word I spoke—all of it had somehow revolved around Ronald. My gaze slowly dropped to my hands, they rested loosely in my lap, but they weren’t steady. They were trembling slightly. The movement was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but I could feel it. A faint shiver running through my fingers. I stared at them silently. Then the words came back to me, clear and unavoidable. “Choose yourself first.” Clara’s voice echoed in my head so vividly that it almost felt as though she was standing right beside me. I could hear the exact tone she had used, calm, serious and certain.

“I was young and stupid, Dom. I chose the wrong person. But I see that now. “Can you give me another chance? Honestly, I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” I chuckled at her words. “Where do you get the confidence to believe I’d still want you after all these years?” She fell silent. Turning her face away, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “If only I hadn’t gone back for Benedict’s admission ticket that day… “If I’d stayed, we could’ve taken the SAT exam together. We would’ve both gotten into WIT. Who knows what kind of life we’d be living now—maybe something amazing.” I said nothing.

It was why I had hesitated to make my choice between them for so long. However, at that moment, I finally understood that I had been just a toy for them to pass the time with over the last two decades. Just then, Sophia uploaded a new post to her Instagram. She was sitting on my couch in the photo, showing off two different diamond rings that sparkled brilliantly on her fingers. She was wearing a tailored suit and glass heels. I recognized her outfit to be the same one that Antonio and Matteo had specially ordered for my birthday half a year ago.

Only then did it hit me—after all these years, I was still the invisible person that nobody bothered to care for when sick. Grief tore through me. I cried until my body shook and my breath came in short gasps. When I finally stopped, I called my professor, a world-renowned doctor. "Professor Lakeworth, I've decided. I'll leave for Orzelia in three days to further my studies. I'll never return here." … I quickly arranged to be discharged from the hospital after a day of recovery. I wanted to wrap things up and get out of this hellhole as soon as possible.

“All you have to do… is choose who matters most.” The floor cracked. The room began to collapse. “No!” I screamed. “I don’t choose.” My father’s expression hardened. “Then you will lose them all.” I screamed again raw, feral and slammed my fist into my chest. “I choose myself,” I shouted. “I choose to survive. I choose truth. I choose not to be controlled by ghosts.” The illusion shattered. I collapsed to my knees, gasping, shaking, sobbing. The chamber reformed around me.